


Crystal Clear

by Super_Scene_It



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Inhumans
Genre: (i hate writing summaries im the worst at it), F/M, Sexual Content, a sad johnny is a no fun johnny, basically sex, not too explicit but yh, ok, sex and hurt and feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Super_Scene_It/pseuds/Super_Scene_It
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Royal Family of Attilan visit the Baxter Building for dinner and that includes the recently married Crystal and her husband Pietro.<br/>Is Johnny okay with this? Probably not.<br/>Lots of hurt yaddy yaddy yadda<br/>Crystal ends up at Johnny's room and well you know what happens. Don't even act like you don't know what's going to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crystal Clear

Upon invitation, the Royal Family of Attilan obliged the request. Dating back to the earlier days of their formation, the long standing affiliations had created a long term bond between the two families. Even the rift of their teammates parting their separate ways couldn't sever the shackles. They arrived at a respective time for a feast of dinner and a night's stay at the Baxter Building in call of celebration pressured by Susan.

Before sending the invite she had pulled her younger brother off to the side for his approval.

“It's fine, Sue,” he had said. A lie he didn't even know he was telling.

So when King Black Bolt and his lovely Queen Medusa appeared along with their newly weded cousin Crystal and her husband Quicksilver, Johnny shunned them from his sight and ate in silence. He buried his feelings and hid his face. He shared forced laughs but kept his smiles.

She took so much from him. He wouldn't allow her to have those too.

 

The entire dinner Crystal would never look his way, and her husband would never leave her side. Not once did she dare to bring him into her line of vision and he'd tell himself she was genuinely occupied busying herself elsewhere in conversation, because it'd hurt him more to admit it weren't true.

Although the table shielded him from what hurt him the most.

Unintentionally, he found himself silently searching out her attention as the time neared dark. He'd lock onto her gaze as they glazed along Reed's and skipped over him to follow back to Sue's.

But the only foreign eyes that would greet his were those of Pietro. A warning, menacing glare that threatened harm if he were ever to approach. So Johnny gave his apologies and excused himself early in spite of himself, if not to spare.

But somehow, in the dead of the night, before the day had ended completely, Crystal had found her way to his room.

 

They stood in the dark. A shadow of their former selves.

“You haven't said a word to me all night.”

The sound of her voice directed towards him for once made him weak. And her eyes meeting his for the first time that night told him a different story than what he'd want to believe.

“Congratulations." A small shrug. "What else do you want me to say?”

She hugged her small belly woundedly, defining its slight, rounded, protruding shape and Johnny tore himself from the view, swallowing hard.

Even after all she's done, he didn't have the heart to shut her out. And she knew it, too.

Quietly, she invited herself in without audible welcome and forcefully put herself back into his sorrowed gaze.

“Jonathan, look at me.”

Her sweet face of beauty and innocence shone through the corner of his eyes. The face of all his hopes, dreams, and so much pain.

Johnny tried to push down the heartache wallowing up inside him while her tender fingers traced the structure of his jaw, scratching against the short bristles of hair in its path. The darkness wasn't enough to shroud the clouds of precipitation lurking around her former lover's eyes, and Crystal sought that of which would always avert before they could meet hers.

The silence dug into his chest with a dagger the shape of her tongue and pealed back the protective layers of his heart until he was raw and sore.

Bruised.

The steady sounds of her breath crawled under his skin with an unbearable itch.

 

Her skin was glistening and then her lips were parting along the line of infidelity.

“Pietro is asleep.”

 

The meaning behind those soft whispered words weren't lost upon him. It didn't enslave him to delusion in even the slightest, the language of her body decrypting her intentions too clearly to be mistaken.

 

He didn't pull back when she guided him to her mouth. He didn't wipe the single tear that streaked his cheek either.

He fell into her careful touch. Curved, merciless lips mapping out his own with such corrupt passionate, eager intent. Every slide of warm, thick wetness rolling over him sucked out any lingering protestant he harbored within. There was no point in fighting a battle you've already lost.

Here she was. His weakness. His kryptonite.

 

She wanted and needed. _Needed_ him. Just like she always used to. Just like he _always_ wanted her to.

Fingers tore at cloth and glided along soft, bare, well-known territory. Naked mouths exploring every inch of skin as if it were a foreign new experience.

Barring the progress of motherhood, the tiny body pressed into his felt the same. Even smelled of the same sweet scent that always singed his nostrils when a distant memory of torture would sneak its way back into his present. With every lingering touch the feel of temptation crept in. It ached how much he wanted her.

No.

How much he needed her.

He knew he shouldn't allow himself to be duped by the nature of falsehood. For all that remained the same, so much was different. Against his better judgment, just for this moment, he would break the chains that wouldn't allow him to tell himself otherwise.

 

The heat of his fingertips left behind a trail of braille readings that etched the tale of their history along the patches of her skin. Ochre colored strands which held the predictable smell of her hair exhumed the painful memories that made him weep in the night. Her short breaths on his skin only visited him in nightmares. The taste of her mouth, the flicks of her tongue, welled invisible tears in his eyes.

Her insides felt like home.

 

The early stages of her growing belly created a barrier between them. It changed the dynamic of their pace and set in the tune of delay in dither. The new life she was bound to bear; a roadblock of hurt impeding his forlorn journey along the boardwalk of broken dreams.

“Don't stop.”

He died in his own reflection of her pale grass green eyes, the brightness fading into the shadows altering its shade. He failed himself, sinking back into her while his heart squeezed itself dry of tears behind his shallow soul.

 

Their swollen hearts pounded against the inner linings of adultery as their bodies strummed together in the echoing harmony of everlasting glory along the strings of a medieval harp.

He shrouded himself with pleasure, shamefully drowning himself in her demands and encouragement until she was closing in around him, slicing her nails into his back and screaming to the skies for forgiveness.

Her screech of release clawed through the air, rumbled through his bones and split his inner eardrums with a familiar gasp that always made his head spin until he was floored and dizzy.

 

Crushed beneath him, she sought redemption with urgency. Perfecting her strokes and begging him for his finish, her eyes wet themselves without her knowledge.

He drove himself into her compliantly, overlooking the fact that her kisses now tasted like pity, immersing so deep inside, blocking out her noises, trying to pull away from the thoughts of the aftermath.

The collateral damage would be the desires that would slink away into the cold of the winter, sheathing the mistakes of the night with a blanket of snow; left outside to freeze over into the nothingness of meaningless collisions.

Her stifled begs coming in multitudes, seeping in past his blockade, pushed him to his peak.

Even in the finer moments of his attuned senses, she always had a way of breaking him before he was ready to let go. Cracking him from the inside out with only but a properly placed touch. He could never identify her as the one who pushed him over the edge until he was already falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

 

He cried out into her, howling to the empty stars shining false hope behind the curtains of his lids, blanketing the dark lonely world beyond the roof of his security, draining himself dry until he had nothing left to give.

 

It was satisfying, yet simultaneously unfulfilling. It didn't fill the void in his chest she had carved and hollowed out along the barriers of his beating muscle all those years ago. He supposes it was naïve of him to even half expect it would've.

 

They lay there. Shells to the promises they once made to each other so long ago. Abandoned love left behind to starve and die in the ruins of _her_ choices.

 

 

As quickly as he opened up the cover of their fantasy novel where once upon a time he was worth the shame and dishonor she brought upon her family, he shut it closed where he dreamed he could piece back her broken promises to wholeness and resurrect it to reality.

 

Emptiness settled back in to the pit of his naked stomach and his heart sunk into the ocean of his silent cries when her eyes would deny him contact.

She now trembled under his touch, wanting nothing more than to flee from his company.

All he saw within the compounds of her tears were the lies she would tell herself in regret to her sinful ways.

Regret.

That's all he ever was to her.

 

“Johnny...”

The solemn look twinkling in her pretty eyes and the way her lips cracked around the corners along the letters of his name flashed him back to that heartbreaking day. When she broke him into irreparable fragments of the man he used to be, fractioning him into a lesser being. When she turned her back to him, crushing parts of him he didn't know could be damaged. When she didn't come back when he waited. When she didn't hold him when he cried for her. When she chose _him_.

 

“I must go. My husband needs me.”

He never imagined just how cruel her words could be. Sour, cold, clumsy, miscalculated, and completely soulless. They twisted the knife and jabbed every pressure point they could find.

“I'm sorry.”

Much like her kisses, her apologies meant nothing.

She couldn't be entirely faulted, though. It was just the way she functioned. The woman didn't know how to love. All she knew was how to build and destroy. That's all she was ever really good for.

“Goodbye, Johnny.”

That's the thing with Inhumans, they weren't really human. They didn't have the heart for it.

They weren't human at all.

 


End file.
